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"You want to go home?" I ask. "I can tell her to-"
"I do. But I've got it. Thanks." Her cheek brushes mine as she turns. Then it's the soft hint of her lips.
A slow, sweet kiss.
We're in front of Tinsel and her ex, but I can tell this isn't for them. It's for me.
Need pours from her to me.
Pride. Affection. Desire.
A million things I want.
I release her with a sigh.
She looks up at me with hazy eyes. "Go ahead. Get the air-conditioning running." She squeezes my hand and lets go.
I don't do as she instructs, though. I move to the car and listen from afar.
Tinsel shifts her weight between her legs. She looks as uncomfortable in her white sneakers as she did in her high heels. "Cassie, hey, this was a weird weekend, huh?"
Cassie nods.
"And this is odd too and I don't know if Freddy would appreciate it, but I… I'm sorry."
"Huh?" Cassie's eyes go wide.
"About everything. I knew you were together. At first, I didn't realize you were together together, but I didn't ask. He told me the first time I kissed him, but I did it anyway. I kept doing it. I… I love him. Not that it's an excuse. It's more—"
"It's okay," Cassie says.
"It is?" Tinsel asks.
"We're never going to be friends," Cassie says. "And the betrayal hurt. It did a number on my trust and my self-esteem. But it was for the best. We weren't right together anymore."
"You don't hate me?"
"I did. But no, not anymore. I'm glad he's not my problem anymore." Cassie offers her hand. "And, hey, may the best team win."
Tinsel looks up at her with confusion in her eyes, but she shakes, and smiles, and gushes through another plea of appreciation.
I slip into the car, turn the key, let the AC run.
For another minute, Cassie and Tinsel talk. Tinsel goes in for a hug when they say goodbye, but Cassie sticks with another handshake.
She races to the car. The second she hits the seat, she releases her last bit of energy. She stops trying to hold herself together.
She looks at her phone for long enough to play Carole King, then she rests her head on the passenger-side door, closes her eyes, and drifts into the road.
Is she asleep or lost in thoughts? I can't tell.
I let her rest on the drive home. She looks beautiful at peace. Angelic even. She's not a stereotypical angel. No halo, no flowing white gown, no serene speech.
She's an avenging angel. One with combat books and a guitar strapped to her wings.
She stirs as I park in front of the house. We didn't talk about where we'd go after this. I don't think either of us saw past writing as many songs as possible.
This is where I want to be. The place I call home. My parent's summer house.
But then I want to be anywhere as long as I'm with her. Everywhere. I want her by my side all the time.
It's intoxicating.
That's how people usually describe love.
Cassie lets out a high-pitched yawn. She stretches her arms over her head, pulling her tank top up her stomach.
"Hey." She looks up at me with hazy eyes.
"Morning, sleepyhead."
"Afternoon?" she asks.
I nod. "Should I put you to bed right here?"
She shakes her head. "Are you home?"
"Depends on the definition."
Her gaze goes to the house. The steps to the front door, then the windows above it. The second story. "Your room is basically our office."
"I do my best work there."
"It is… oh. You mean sex."
No. For once, I don't. But I want to go there. To dissolve into that easy place that feels good.
"I'm too tired to be clever," she says.
"Cassie Steele without wit? Not possible."
"Our secret." She puts her finger to her lips in a sh gesture.
It's adorable. My entire body warms. She really is… everything. "How about I take you upstairs?"
She raises a brow.
"For a nap," I say.
"Not celebration sex?"
"Say the word, baby."
"No." She shakes her head. "I'm too tired. I won't be alert enough to enjoy it."
She's thinking about what she wants first. Putting her pleasure first.
She wouldn't have admitted that three months ago. Or with her ex.
It's a small thing, but the trust still overwhelms me. I want more of it. All of it.
I just—
There's a lot to consider.
First things first. I help Cassie out of the car and lead her to the door.
She smiles as I undo the lock. "Are you going to carry me too?"
That's perfect, yeah. I kick the door open, then I scoop her into my arms, and I carry her over the threshold like a newlywed in an old movie.
She squeals as she digs her fingers into my shoulders. Slowly, she leans into the gesture, until she's quiet in my arms.
We move with ease—thank fuck, for all those hours at the gym. She stays there, still and peaceful, until I lay her down on the bed.
